


Scenes From The Back Of The Tour Bus

by popstarryeyed (space_feminist)



Category: Andrew Hozier-Byrne (Musician)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Tour Bus Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2020-10-07 21:57:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 8,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_feminist/pseuds/popstarryeyed
Summary: "Let me help." A hundred years or so from now, I believe, a famous novelist will write a classic using that theme. He'll recommend those three words even over "I love you".-Captain Kirk, Star Trek:TOS, "The City On The Edge Of Forever"





	1. Tall Boys

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this tweet](https://twitter.com/warmglowing/status/1150606279817060352). Don't know if it actually happened, but this is fanfic so who cares?
> 
> In the same rough continuity as [do not disturb](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18842737) and [The Scarf](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19220782) by roosebolton, and [The Turtleneck](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19940536) by me.

Andrew shouldn't have expected to sleep well the first night of the tour - sleeping on a moving tour bus was a skill that took time to acquire. But last tour, he’d been trying to cram himself into too-small bunks in the middle of the bus, and now he had a large bed in the back, with a separate door for some privacy. He was so tired, and the bed was so nice, that he could be forgiven for daring to get his hopes up.

He’d forgotten, however, about the other things that came with being tired after a show. The feeling of being hollow and drained and spent, the feeling that he didn’t deserve the fame and attention and adoration, the worry that he’d given a lackluster performance, the stress and weight of the tour machine on his shoulders…

And the bed wasn’t helping – in fact, it made him feel worse, knowing that his bandmates were squeezing themselves into uncomfortable tiny bunks while he was living in the lap of luxury.

The bus rumbled and jolted underneath him. “Fuck,” he muttered. The only cure for the post-concert crash was to sleep it off, but the bumpy road and his thoughts kept him tethered to consciousness. God, he should be able to pull himself out of these spirals by now. But it was the first night of the tour, and he was blindsided. So he drifted in and out, caught somewhere in between sleeping and waking.

Until a knock on the wall forced him into the waking world.

“Mmph?” he said blearily.

“Sorry to bother you,” Alex said, his deep voice unmistakable. “This is gonna sound weird, but, ehm...I, ehm, can't sleep 'cause the bunks are so small, and, ehm, I know you got the big bed 'cause you're tall, and I was just wondering, ehm...”

Andrew rolled over to the edge of the bed and patted the empty spot. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Alex said, climbing in and tugging the blanket over to his side. Andrew tugged the blanket back, and they tussled sleepily for a bit before settling into place on opposite sides of the bed, facing away from each other.

“Couldn't sleep either,” Andrew confessed.

“Yeah, road’s bumpy,” Alex said sympathetically.

“Mmm,” Andrew said. “First gig too. The usual.” He sighed.

Alex rolled over to face him and reached out a hand to pat him on the shoulder. “Yeah, first gig's always stressful. But we've done this before, it'll be fine. I'm here for you.”

Andrew gave him a tired smile. Alex's casual, down-to-earth way of putting things was always reassuring. “Thanks.” 

Alex’s only reply was a snore. His hand still rested on Andrew's shoulder, strong and comforting, Andrew felt a warmth spread across his body, and he closed his eyes.

For the first time, he slept well the first night of a tour.


	2. Penguins

In Alex’s opinion, it had taken Andrew far too long to tell the driver that the heating wasn’t working. It was very nice of Andrew to open his closet to smaller band members needing large, warm clothes – Alex had done the same, as the other tall member of the band – but he didn’t _have_ to take the jacket off his back. (Alex, in contrast, had refused to give up his black hoodie.) Andrew had walked up to the front of the bus with his teeth chattering loudly and his long limbs shivering so badly he looked like a skeleton Halloween decoration in the wind.

Alex supposed that was, ultimately, a victory. At least Andrew had taken the initiative to ask for help, as opposed to the time he hadn’t slept for two nights because the bed was too small. Andrew’s kindness and selflessness was his best quality, but it was also miserable sometimes to care about someone who didn’t always care for himself.

Alex heard Andrew shuffling under the covers. “Hey, Alex?”

“Yeah?” Alex rolled over to face him.

“So…ehm…” Andrew paused, as if he were trying to figure out what to say. “So I…I was watching this nature documentary once, and…”

The _fuck_?

“A-And they said that penguins sleep all huddled together t-to share body heat. I thought – I thought maybe we could…y’know...”

_Oh_. Alex wasn’t sure if he was stuttering from awkwardness or shivering, but either would’ve made sense, given what he was proposing.

“…Make like the penguins?” Alex finished.

“Y-Yeah,” Andrew said. “I’m cold.”

“Well, that’s what you get for giving your jacket to Rachel.”

To Alex’s surprise, Andrew slumped dejectedly, his face in his pillow. “Never mind then,” he said, his voice muffled.

Alex laughed. “I was just teasing. C’mere. I’ll spoon you.” He scooted himself closer to the middle of the bed and reached out to pull Andrew close to him. Andrew made a soft little “mmph!” sound and adjusted his position a bit, pressing himself even closer to Alex’s chest.

Alex wrapped his arms around Andrew and buried his face in Andrew’s hair, which smelled clean and fresh – probably from his usual post-gig shower. _Weird thing to notice, Alex_, he thought. But he couldn’t help it. Kind of hard to not notice things when they were this close.

“This is nice,” Andrew said. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Alex said into Andrew’s curls.

He had to agree – it was pretty nice. Andrew was bony and not the cuddliest, but he was warm and his chest (where Alex’s arms were) was decently soft. Also, it was much easier to share the blanket now that they weren’t on opposite sides of the bed anymore. Andrew started to snore, and Alex felt the warmth start to lull him to sleep too. 

_Good job asking for help, Andrew_, he thought, and then fell asleep.


	3. The Woods

Andrew was glad that Alex had agreed to huddle for warmth last night. It had been a practical, if odd request, and he appreciated that Alex understood. He was sure he wouldn’t have been able to sleep nearly as well without the extra warmth.

However, it was a bit of a shock to wake up to something hard pressing into his backside.

He didn’t think it meant anything – the friction of sleeping next to someone could do that – but it was still a deeply awkward sensation. He tried to shift position to spare Alex the embarrassment, but Alex’s arms were heavy around him and all he managed to do was wiggle a bit. A gasp caught in his throat at the sensation of his body moving against Alex’s, and he realized he was now the same predicament.

Oh no. He’d only made things worse.

Alex made a grunting noise that, by this point, Andrew recognized as the signal he was awake. _Fuck_. _Go back to sleep go back to sleep…_

Instead, Alex let go of Andrew’s torso and rolled over to face away from him, dislodging the blanket in the process. Andrew shivered as the cold air hit his body, and he tugged on the blanket, trying to cover himself. He could not let Alex know his…situation.

Andrew heard Alex flip onto his back and yawn, and then felt his weight leave the bed.

“Mornin’,” Alex said. His footsteps led across the small room to where he’d stashed some of his clothes.

“Mornin’,” Andrew replied, quickly reclaiming the blanket. It was still warm from their shared body heat, and he considered whether maybe the warmth they’d shared last night was worth the awkwardness of the morning.

He heard Alex chuckle. “Andy, you can’t just burrow under the covers forever. You have to get up and face the cold, brutal world.”

As if on cue, Andrew’s phone began buzzing with his usual alarm sound. Andrew groaned. “You’re right.”

Thankfully, his _situation_ had died down, and he was able to get out of bed and into some slightly-more-presentable clothes. Didn’t want to look too much like a mess when they checked into the hotel they were staying in while the bus got serviced.

That night, he went back to the hotel room he had all to himself, exhausted from the concert, and crawled under the covers. It was comfortable and warm, and it was nice to have some alone time, but…

He missed Alex’s arms around him.


	4. Twisting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be slightly less frequent from now on, because we're reaching the end of my backlog. Also, the chapters will be getting longer from this point forward, so I can't expect myself to hold to this update schedule. Don't worry though - I will not abandon my boys!

It was nothing against Andrew – Alex was grateful to him for sharing his bed and giving him a more comfortable place to sleep. It wasn’t because he thought it was weird to share a bed – tour buses were so cramped anyway, everybody got comfortable being up in each other’s business.

But frankly, he was embarrassed. There was no way Andrew _hadn’t_ felt that. They’d been pressed together so close that he could smell Andrew’s hair and feel the bones of Andrew’s spine, so close that Andrew’s slightest movement had awoken him and made unwanted things happen downstairs. _Too_ close. He’d probably seen at least half the band, including Andrew, in some state of undress, and they’d probably seen him – but this crossed a line.

So here Alex was, back at his bunk. Surely he could fit, right? It might be a little uncomfortable, but not more uncomfortable than that situation.

He stretched out, and his feet hung off the end, perilously close to Rory’s head in the bunk next to him. He curled up, and his knees stuck out over the side of the bed. Sighing, he flipped over, then winced in pain as his knees bumped the wall of the bus.

Alex wasn’t sure how long he tossed and turned, twisting himself into different pretzels, willing himself to fall asleep despite the bus shaking him out of every carefully curled position with every small imperfection in the road. He’d bumped every appendage against the wall multiple times when he finally decided to pick one of the slightly-less-uncomfortable positions and lay still, counting on exhaustion to take over. His thoughts drifted wistfully to Andrew’s bed, warmed by a body and big enough for him to stretch out without his feet hanging over the end.

Perhaps it was time to concede defeat.

He got up and knocked gently on the wall. “Hey, Andrew?” he asked, pushing the door open a crack.

“Yes?”

“I-I can’t sleep. Can I – ”

“Absolutely. You know you don’t even need to ask at this point, right?”

“Well, I just thought…I’d imposed on you enough,” Alex half-lied.

Andrew sat up and fixed Alex with a serious gaze, pursing his lips. He shook his head. “Look, I remember how much it sucked trying to sleep in a too-small bunk. You are _not_ imposing, trust me.”

Alex’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Andrew said, and he laid back down.

It was only then that Alex noticed that Andrew was sleeping on one side of the bed, and that he seemed strangely alert for someone who’d been in bed for a while. Alex closed the door behind him and slid under the covers on his side.

Andrew rolled over to face him. “I missed you.”

Alex laughed softly. “I missed you too.”


	5. Exploring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this update is just as quick as the others. Yes, my warning from the last one still applies - chapters will be getting longer and more spaced out. In the meantime, enjoy!

“Y’know, it’s kinda weird that we’re two lads sharin’ a bed,” Andrew said thoughtfully as he sat down on said shared bed. “Y’know, two lads who, aren’t, like, fuckin’,” he corrected himself. “If two lads wanna share a bed an’ fuck, y’know, I’m all for that. Gay rights ‘n all.”

“Hear, hear,” Alex said, raising his beer bottle. Then he furrowed his brow. “So wait…are y’saying it’d be _less_ weird if we fucked?”

Andrew frowned, and he felt a weird twisting in his gut. “Is that…is that what I said?”

“Well, kinda. You said it’s weird for two lads to share a bed if they’re not fuckin’. And _we’re_ not fuckin’, and _we’re_ sharin’ a bed.”

Andrew tilted his head to the side and considered Alex’s point. His face felt warm, somehow. Probably the alcohol. Probably. “Hmm.” He took another swig from his beer, then hiccupped. “Ehm…I mean…it shouldn’t be weird. But it’s seen as weird, y’know?”

Alex nodded. “It’s not weird. Tour buses r’crowded. Yer always up in ev’ryone’s business.”

“Yeah. I mean, we did like, cuddle up next t' each other th' one time, but that was f’r practical reasons.”

“Right.”

Andrew smiled wistfully. “Tour can get lonely sometimes. It was nice to have someone t’ curl up to.” He put an arm around Alex and leaned on his shoulder.

Alex returned the gesture, patting Andrew on the back. “Y’get all mushy when yer drunk,” he said, but he was smiling, and it was clear he didn’t mean that was a bad thing.

The affectionate pat reminded Andrew of the first time Alex had crawled into bed with him, and his chest felt a little warm at the memory. Words spilled out of his mouth, unbidden. “I guess if I was gonna fuck a lad, I’d want it t' be you.”

Alex laughed, a big full laugh, throwing his head back, dimples creasing his cheeks. “Aww, 'm flattered!” he said.

Then, suddenly, the smile dropped off his face, replaced with a thoughtful frown. He scratched his beard, and his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he pondered…whatever he was pondering. Andrew found himself watching Alex’s tongue intently, his heart racing.

“Been a while since I’ve had sex,” Alex finally said.

“Me too,” Andrew said. He was starting to feel his heartbeat in his ears.

“Does get lonely, like y’said.”

“Yeah.”

Alex exhaled. “I’m down t’ give it a try if you are.”

The bus suddenly revved underneath them, and they scrambled to stow their beer bottles so they wouldn’t fall over when the bus started moving. Andrew was thankful he didn’t have to respond immediately, because he felt wobbly and strange, and he wasn’t sure if it was the bus, the alcohol, or Alex’s suggestion. He sat down on the bed, hard, and Alex joined him.

“So…ehm…” Alex said, and swallowed awkwardly, not making eye contact. Maybe he regretted what he’d said? Andrew couldn’t be sure.

“W-well, n-not on a moving bus,” was all Andrew could think to say. “But maybe – ”

He and Alex had the same idea at the same time, and they collided in a clumsy kiss, all bumping noses and clacking teeth and hair-in-mouth and beer-taste on both their tongues. Wholly unromantic, and yet – Alex’s lips were soft, and his arms were strong around Andrew’s back, and Andrew didn’t want to pull away. They fell back onto the bed together, their arms around each other and their foreheads pressed together, and they fumbled their way under the blankets with the grace of inexperienced teenagers. Once they settled in, Andrew pushed Alex’s hair out of the way and kissed him again, properly, tilting his head to avoid Alex’s large nose. The scratch of Alex’s beard was a sensation Andrew had never felt before, and he realized he liked it. Alex kissed him back enthusiastically, one hand reaching up to run through Andrew’s hair, fingers grazing his scalp.

The feeling sent a thrill through Andrew’s body, and he pulled Alex closer, deepening the kiss. The alcohol made him bold, and curious to explore the newness of it all. He let his hands wander where they could reach, across Alex’s face and neck and down his back, rubbing circles over his broad shoulders. Alex returned the gesture, and when they – after what seemed like a wonderful eternity – broke apart for air, Andrew rested his head in the crook of Alex’s neck. His eyelids drooped, and he drifted off to sleep with a blissful smile on his face.


	6. Get It Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: vomit

Alex awoke to a pounding headache, and something wiggling frantically in his arms. It took a few moments for him to realize that thing was Andrew, and he released his grip. Andrew rolled out of bed and bolted out of the room, and Alex’s eyes snapped open. _Oh no. Andrew never moves that fast in the morning unless something’s wrong._ _Fuck._ Alex scrambled out of bed to follow him, kicking the tangled blankets aside furiously.

He found Andrew in the tiny bus bathroom, dry-heaving into the bowl.

“Aw, man,” Alex said, and he stooped down to push Andrew’s hair out of the way, holding it back with one hand as Andrew’s heaving stopped being dry. He grimaced as nausea rose in his throat, and he swallowed, hard, trying to keep his breathing steady. For Andrew, he would hold himself together. With his free hand, he rubbed Andrew’s back, and he continued talking, trying his best to sound comforting. “Oh, man, sorry, this sucks, you’ll be okay…”

Finally, Andrew gasped out a few shaky breaths and sat back. He grabbed some toilet paper and wiped his face, then tossed it in and flushed.

And then it was Alex’s turn to double over in front of the toilet bowl.

Andrew’s hands were immediately on him, holding his hair out of his face and rubbing his back. Alex’s body convulsed, the taste of the previous night’s beer filled his mouth, and unbidden, tears welled up in his eyes. Even though Andrew had just been sick himself, he was right there ready to care for Alex, mumbling words Alex couldn’t make out over the sound of his sick but that were, in Andrew’s soft, gentle voice, soothing and reassuring nonetheless. A fresh wave of tears fell as he heaved again, and Andrew continued stroking his back and murmuring comforting sounds.

There wasn’t really enough room for them both on the floor of the bathroom, so once Alex was done, he stumbled shakily to his feet, leaning on the wall for support. Andrew followed suit, leaning against the other wall. His face was paler than usual, his hair was a tangled mess, and his shirt was wrinkled. Alex suspected he didn’t look much better, and he grabbed a scrap of toilet paper and clumsily tried to wipe his face.

Andrew rubbed his temples. “Gonna go get my toothbrush.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

Alex let Andrew take the bathroom first, getting back in bed and pulling the covers over his head. The light streaming through the windows was making his headache worse. He felt drained and empty, exhausted even though he’d just woken up, and the bed was still warm…

“Your turn.”

Alex jerked awake and poked his head out from the blankets. Andrew looked better. Not great, of course – nobody did when hungover – but he’d clearly washed his face, changed into clean clothes, and made some attempt at combing his hair.

“Feelin’ better?” Alex asked.

Andrew shrugged. “Kind of.” He laid back down on the bed and closed his eyes, facing the ceiling.

As Alex brushed his teeth, his half-awake mind wandered to the events of the night before, and in spite of how gross and groggy he felt, he couldn’t help but smile. Andrew was such a softie, especially when he was drunk. Other people got mean or loud under the influence, but Andrew just wanted to show his love for everyone. It was so sweet it almost made Alex want to throw up again.

Instead, he rinsed and spat out his toothpaste into the sink, chastising himself for crying at Andrew’s kindness. _Goddammit, Alex, pull yourself together. You’re hungover, not dying. Plus, it’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him._

Andrew sat up when Alex came back in, and his face was furrowed into a frown. _Oh no_, Alex thought, and slid into bed beside him.

“Something wrong?” Alex asked.

“Last night…did we…?” Andrew trailed off.

_Oh god, did he not remember?_ “Did we what?” Alex said, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

“Never mind,” Andrew said quickly.

Oh. So he _did _remember. “There’s nothing wrong,” Alex said carefully. “Just…just craic between friends. Don’t worry about it.”

Andrew nodded slowly. “I s’pose so. Definitely – definitely not the worst thing you could do drunk, that’s for sure.” He paused briefly. “D’you wanna get breakfast?” he asked.

Alex couldn’t help but breathe a small sigh of relief that Andrew had dropped the topic. If things got weird between them, he’d have to consider going back to his bunk again, and he really didn’t want to do that. It was nice sharing the big bed.

All he had to do was keep things normal between them.

“Breakfast sounds good.”


	7. When You Move, I Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I wanted this done about 2 weeks ago, but I got sick/went out of town/got writer's block. Literally, all of them. Anyway here's your porn.

“Go the _fuck_ to sleep, Andrew,” Rory groaned. “I can hear you stomping around from here.”

Andrew stopped in the middle of the room, mid-pace. “Sorry. G’night.”

“Night.”

He sighed and swung his arms back and forth. He’d come offstage almost vibrating with nervous energy. It would have been a good time to take a walk around, or use some of that energy to meet fans, but they had to leave right away to get to the next gig, and he was forced to simply pace the length of the bus. That is, until the band had yelled at him to sleep.

And now, he couldn’t even pace the little room he shared with Alex.

_Alex_. Andrew began to undress down to his usual undershirt-and-boxers sleepwear, even though he wasn’t sure he could sleep. When they’d gathered together for the full-band bow, Alex had, as usual, put his hand on Andrew’s shoulder. A normal, casual touch, except today, it was like Alex’s hand had tripped a wire, sending a strange jolt down Andrew’s back.

He got into bed and laid on his side, facing away from Alex. In a vain attempt to release some energy without disturbing Alex, he wiggled his fingers and toes – to no avail. Sighing, he flipped over to lie on his back, staring up at the ceiling and trying to close his eyes. But it was impossible to relax, not when his whole body was wired like this, where he could feel every tiny sensation, every part of his body pressing into the bed and every rumble of the bus beneath him.

Andrew flipped himself over yet again, burying his face in the pillow and exhaling in frustration.

“You okay Andrew?” Alex asked groggily.

“I need help,” Andrew blurted out.

Alex chuckled softly. “Now he asks. What with, Andy?”

Andrew opened his mouth, but no words came out. He again recalled Alex’s touch and the jolt it had sent through him. His skin tingled at the memory, and his mouth went dry.

He knew what he needed.

“Andy?”

“Y’know how when you were drunk, you said, ehm…” Andrew swallowed. “You said you said you would h-have sex with me, and, ehm…”

Alex flipped over to face him, his brow furrowed. “Huh. I did say that, didn’t I?”

Andrew could feel his face burning. “Never mind.”

Alex shook his head. “Nah, man, come here.”

Hesitantly, Andrew scooted closer to Alex. Alex reached down, fumbling his way through the hole in Andrew’s boxers, and wrapped his hand around Andrew’s erection. His eyebrows shot upward in surprise, and if Andrew could blush any redder than he already was, he did. A sharp gasp fell off his lips as Alex began to stroke, slowly, almost lazily. It was the most basic movement, the one that any lonely man knew well, but in Andrew’s state, it was enough to make him squirm in place.

A smile crept across Alex’s face. “Geez, Andy, you’re really into it,” he said, then yawned, his eyes drooping closed.

Andrew suddenly felt something awful swirl in the pit of his stomach. “No!”

Alex took his hand away immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“It just…it just feels sad.”

“What?”

“You yawned. I-I feel bad. It’s like you don’t want to.”

Alex shrugged. “I’m just tired. Sorry.”

“D’you…d’you want me to…?” Andrew gestured downward. “Return the favor? More involvement that way.”

Alex’s eyebrows raised in interest. “Well, I’m not gonna say no. It’s been a while.”

Andrew reached over and slid his hand in the hole in Alex’s boxers, wrapping his fingers around the half-hard member he found there. It was his turn to be surprised, but he quashed the feeling and gave Alex a few strokes, feeling him grow fully hard in his hand.

Alex put his hand back into Andrew’s boxers, and slowly, they began to stroke each other. It was clumsy, almost nervous, at first, their foreheads and noses bumping with every jolt of the bus beneath them, their wrists brushing against each other, lips tightly closed to prevent any sound escaping. They were – or at least Andrew was – terrified of being found, and yet, it wasn’t long before they eased into a rhythm. Their movements grew more assured, their soft sounds of pleasure less inhibited, and Andrew allowed himself to enjoy it, to relish the closeness and every toe-curling sensation. His mind drifted to music, the rhythms of their stroking and the rhythms of their guitar playing, the chorus of their moans and the blend of their voices onstage, the way that making music with Alex came so easily after years of intimacy and understanding and how this, too, seemed easy and right.

Before he knew it, his breathing was growing ragged, he was biting back loud moans, and finally, with a muffled gasp and a thrust of his hips, he came, over Alex’s hand and his own boxers. His body went slack as all the tension released, and his hand on Alex slowed to a stop.

Alex whined in protest. “An-_dreeeew_…”

_Fuck._ Andrew jerked Alex rapidly a few more times, and, with a low groan of pleasure, Alex spilled onto Andrew’s hand and the sheets. They lay in silence for a few moments, breathing heavily, the hazy afterglow lingering.

Then Alex spoke: “Sorry for making a mess on your sheets.”

Andrew smiled. “_Our_ sheets. And, well…it’s kind of my fault, isn’t it?” Andrew said.

Alex snorted softly. “Yeah.”

They fell silent again, and then Andrew reluctantly got up. “Need to clean up,” he said, raising his sticky hand.

“Yep.”

Andrew carefully covered his stained hand with his other hand as he walked to the bus bathroom. Luckily, everyone seemed to still be asleep, left undisturbed and unaware of what had happened between him and Alex. Good. It was better that way.

And after Alex had washed himself up, all that was left of what happened was a pile of laundry in the corner of the room, and a sense of relaxation and peace that lulled Andrew to sleep in Alex’s arms.


	8. Sunlight

A cocoon of warmth surrounded him, the rumble of the bus below him low and familiar and soothing, rocking him gently. A hazy orange glow filtered through his eyelids, and he brushed the edges of consciousness, enough to know that he didn’t want to go there yet, that he wanted to simply exist in this state, in this glowing oasis somewhere between sleeping and waking. But the cocoon shifted position and snored softly, and consciousness beckoned him forward into its embrace. Slowly, Alex became aware of his surroundings, and that the warmth he felt was Andrew's arms around him.

It didn't surprise him, or even really bother him. The bed wasn't really big enough for both of them, and more often than not, they woke with limbs entangled. He smiled. Many nights, they didn't even try to stay apart. In fact, they very intentionally were...close. And truth be told, Andrew’s body against his felt comforting, secure and safe, a reassurance that he wasn’t alone.

Alex opened his eyes. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, falling across Andrew’s sleeping form beside him. The light illuminated the reddish undertones in his messy hair splayed across the pillow, and his long eyelashes cast shadows across his cheekbones. His brow was smooth, free of the usual creases from stress and worry, and his mouth was relaxed, soft pink lips parted slightly, his breathing even. Alex couldn't help but feel a certain fondness at seeing him so peaceful, so content and unburdened with responsibility. So _vulnerable_. A mischievous smile crept across his face.

Wouldn't it be a shame if something were to...happen?

“Wake up, fucker!” he yelled, punching Andrew playfully on the shoulder.

Andrew's eyes flew open, and he recoiled, clutching his arm. “_Agh _\- ! Oh.” He frowned.

“Good morning,” Alex said cheerfully.

Andrew groaned and buried his head in the pillow. “Fuck you.”

“Go ahead.”

Andrew swatted weakly at him. “I fucking hate you.”

“Hate you too,” Alex said cheerfully.

Andrew sighed. “Fucker.”

“Fucker.”


	9. The Fire

Andrew felt a warm, pleasant glow in his stomach as he climbed onto the bus – the after-show drinks, the sweet fan encounters, and the glow of a job well done mingling to make him feel warm and relaxed. He could hear the band’s drunken laughter inside the bus, and he couldn’t help but smile. It would take a lot more to get him to that stage of drunkenness, but he was glad they were happy. They were wonderful, and they deserved it, especially after such a good show. He was so lucky to have such great people around him.

When he walked into the little seating area on the bus, he was immediately drawn to the one person who didn’t seem so buoyant. Alex leaned against a wall near the entrance to the sleeping area, staring out the window with a faraway look in his eyes.

A few brief hellos, a few hugs, and he made his way to Alex’s side. “Hey.”

Alex looked up. “Oh good, you’re here. I need your help with something.”

“Sure, what with?” Andrew said.

Alex winked, so quickly Andrew wasn't sure if he saw it. “C'mon.” He put a hand on Andrew's back, and steered him through the door to the sleeping quarters, down the length of the bus, all the way to the back.

“What – ” Andrew began when the door was closed, only to be immediately cut off by Alex grabbing his hair and tugging him down into a kiss.

His body went limp from shock, overwhelmed with sensations. Alex's whiskey-soaked breath was hot on Andrew's skin, his teeth nipping at Andrew's bottom lip and one hand tangling in his hair. His fingernails scraped Andrew’s scalp, and his other hand slid down to the small of Andrew's back, pulling him closer so their bodies were flush against each other. Andrew gasped as Alex began to grind his hips, pressing his tongue insistently to Andrew's lips. Obediently, he opened his mouth to accommodate it, moaning as their tongues intertwined. Alex's growing hardness pressed against his own, the friction between them built, and his whole body burned like the taste of whiskey on their tongues.

Just when Andrew wasn't sure he could take it anymore, Alex stopped thrusting his hips, leaving a bit of space between them even as his tongue was still in Andrew’s mouth. He grabbed one of Andrew's hands and placed it on his own crotch, reaching with his other hand towards Andrew’s zipper.

Andrew broke the kiss sharply and stumbled backwards. He braced himself against the wall, his breath coming out in short gasps. “So - so that's...what you wanted,” he stammered out.

Alex looked stunned and made a choking sound. “You - you didn't fucking _know_? I said I needed help and I _winked_! What the _fuck_ else could that mean?”

“I - I don't know,” Andrew said meekly.

“Everything okay in there?” Rachel called. “I heard yelling.”

“We're fine!” they chorused.

Alex lowered his voice to a whisper. “Look, I'm sorry. Forget it.”

“W-well, I, ehm, wouldn't have said no. Except, ehm...” He gestured to the door. “Not exactly a good time.”

“I thought them being loud would cover for us,” Alex said. “Sorry.” He looked down, avoiding Andrew’s eyes.

Andrew took a few deep breaths. His heart was still racing, and he still felt a bit like he was on fire, and it was making it hard to think. He stuck his hand in his pocket and felt the square outline of his hotel key. Should he…

His hand closed around it, and he pulled it out and slid the spare key out of the sleeve. “Here,” he said. “Let yourself in.”

Alex took it hesitantly. “You sure about this? I did kinda…spring it on you.”

Andrew nodded. “Yes.”

Alex grinned. “I’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”

The look in his eyes sent Andrew aflame, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever burn out.


	10. A Moment's Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The return of The Scarf, and for related reasons, there are very VERY mild elements of bondage.

Alex knew this mood.

Andrew would shift his weight from foot to foot, wringing his hands and shoving them in his pockets and taking them out again, swinging his arms and crossing them. There would be a distant look in his eyes, and his smiles to the band and crew would seem forced. When they got to bed, he’d toss and turn sleeplessly. Alex knew this mood, and he considered it his new unofficial job to address it.

Well, not a job, exactly. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Andrew yawned and shifted position yet again, tugging the blanket over to his side and tucking it underneath him. Alex scooted closer so that he could stay under the blanket, pressing his chest against Andrew’s back. He slung his arm around Andrew’s waist and leaned in.

“Hey, Andrew,” he said softly. “D’you want some…help?” He slid his hand down to Andrew’s crotch, letting it rest there as an invitation.

Andrew let out a frustrated groan and pushed his hand away. “Might hear us.”

“We haven’t been caught before.”

“It was risky. We probably shouldn’t’ve.”

Alex grimaced. That was on him. He was the one who’d almost gotten them caught. He’d pushed too hard, and Andrew hadn’t been comfortable.

“Never mind then.”

They lapsed into silence, and Alex rolled over onto his side and looked through the gaps of the curtains. Dark trees lined the sides of the winding road, illuminated by the bus headlights as they passed. The bus was quiet but for the soft rustling of other people getting into bed, and the low familiar rumble below.

His gaze fell upon the pile of clothes Andrew had dropped on the ground. The end of a familiar small black scarf stuck out from the bottom of the pile, and Alex grinned at the memory. And then…a thought. Surely…it could come in handy again, right? He got out of bed and extricated it from the pile.

“What’re you doing?” Andrew asked, rolling over to look at him.

Alex tied a double-knot in the center of the scarf, then looked over at Andrew and triple-knotted it. Andrew's forehead furrowed.

“It’s for your mouth, Andy,” Alex said.

Andrew's eyes went wide, and he blinked a few times.

“Obviously, if you’re not comfortable, we don’t have to. Just thought it might help us stay quiet.”

A slow nod, and a thoughtful pause. _Oh god, maybe this was a mistake._ Alex stood there, frozen, the scarf in his hand.

Then, wordlessly, Andrew rolled onto his back, sliding the covers down. He swallowed, then tilted his head back and opened his mouth. Alex lost his breath for a moment, seeing Andrew so open to him – his eyes half-closed, his neck exposed, the bulge in his boxers clearly visible. But he carefully secured the makeshift gag, tying it underneath Andrew's hair and trying not to get it caught.

“Feeling alright?”

Andrew gave him a thumbs up.

He crouched between Andrew’s legs and hooked his fingertips under the waistband of Andrew’s boxers. “Ready?”

Another thumbs up.

With one smooth motion, he slid down the boxers and tossed them on the ground. Bracing himself on Andrew’s thighs, he ducked his head down to lick gently over the tip, then around the sides – a tease of what was to come. A soft hum of anticipation escaped the gag, and Alex bobbed his head down again, taking Andrew in his mouth for a moment and then pulling away.

The bus went over a bump, and Alex gripped Andrew's thighs to keep himself in place, undeterred from his task. He repeated the motion, taking Andrew deeper, sucking harder each time, until Andrew whined through his gag and Alex took him in his mouth and stayed there, taking him in as deeply as he could. Andrew writhed underneath him, breathing heavily, small noises escaping the gag. They were the sounds and movements of a man who was trying desperately to stay still and quiet, but had come undone, who was too overwhelmed with pleasure. Each little sound seemed to strike a chord in Alex, filling him with a warm and tingly sort of pride. He swirled his tongue, Andrew whimpered even more, and the warmth spread through him, concentrating itself between his legs.

Carefully, without removing his mouth, he let go of Andrew's thighs and moved his hands to his own crotch.

Andrew's cock was an effective gag for Alex as he stroked himself, the vibration of his moans against Andrew's skin making Andrew thrust into his mouth and let out muffled moans of his own. It was overwhelming, the sensation of being responsible for two people's pleasure, but also thrilling, and Alex leaned into the rhythm of it, his mouth on Andrew and his hands on himself and the rocking and rolling of the bus and he felt himself growing close, and then –

The bus jolted, Alex’s mouth slid off Andrew with a wet pop, and he tumbled backwards off the end of the bed, knocking his head on the wall behind him with a disproportionally loud _thunk_.

Pain shot through him, and he was vaguely aware that Andrew had made some sort of sound, perhaps of concern. “Owwwwww.”

Andrew leaned over the side of the bed, a worried look in his eyes, and made a series of noises Alex presumed to be “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied. As the pain subsided to a dull ache, he became aware of the rustle of bedsheets and murmurs coming from other people on the bus. They weren't alone anymore.

But they weren't finished yet.

“D’you mind if I –” Alex gestured downward.

Andrew looked up at him, his eyes hazy with arousal, and pulled him down.

Andrew came first, hot on Alex's tongue, and Alex pulled off him to swallow and then buried his face in the soft fabric of Andrew’s shirt. He groaned his climax into Andrew's belly, and Andrew's hands stroked his hair.

A knock on the door, and they both jumped, trying to tug the covers to hide what they'd done. Andrew fumbled with the gag, and Alex helped him, their hands brushing as they frantically tried to untie the knots.

“What is it?” Alex replied.

“Are you okay in there?” Kristen called, voice sounding bleary from sleep. “I thought I heard something.”

“Probably just me falling over,” Alex said. “I’m fine, just a nasty bruise. Sounded worse than it was, I promise.”

“Looked really funny,” Andrew added, finally extricated from the gag.

“Hey!”

Kristen chuckled. “Well, if you’re okay…g’night then.”

“Good night!”

A chorus of sleepy good nights rang through the bus, and soon, the bus was quiet again.

“Hey, Alex,” Andrew said softly. “D’you want me to get some ice for your bruise? Least I can do.”

Without any distractions, the pain at the back of his head was becoming harder to ignore. “I’d be much obliged, lad.”

He heard Andrew get up and walk down the length of the bus, and then the next thing he felt was Andrew gently rolling him over and a cold sensation on the back of his head.

“Mm.”

The bed creaked as Andrew got back in. “I’m sorry, man,” he said.

“What for?”

“I feel like it’s my fault you hit your head.”

“I suggested it, Andy. Quit worrying and go to sleep.”

Andrew laughed softly. “All right. G’night.”

“G’night.”


	11. Slow Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jotted some ideas down in my phone notes ages ago while listening to "Slow Burn" by Kacey Musgraves, and once I started writing this fic I realized they'd fit perfectly in this storyline. Feels good to finally clear these out!

It came on slowly, in small, ephemeral moments, hard to grasp and pin down. A moment watching him play piano, his hair falling in his face as his fingers caressed the keys. A moment when he'd beaten Andrew at Mario Kart, and a grin had split his face, his eyes crinkling in delight as he punched the air. A moment when Andrew had looked over at him in bed and seen the blissful expression on his face, their bodies curled up close.

A moment when Andrew had glanced across the stage to see him, and had seen his head thrown back in ecstasy, his elegant hands deftly handling his bass, his dark blond hair shining under the stage lights, a moment when Andrew had lost his breath and thanked God it was an instrumental break.

The words fell out of his mouth, in the haze of stage lights and adrenaline: "And on bass, a man known for making the stage more handsome, Alex Ryan!"

The crowd cheered. He found his way through the rest of his thank yous and through the encore, his face burning, its redness disguised by the redness of exertion. He was grateful for the cool night air as they left the venue and headed towards the buses.

He headed for the back of the bus, but he knew that would do no good. No sooner had the door closed -

“Handsome, huh?”

Alex leaned against the wall, his hood up and his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie. His face was inscrutable.

There was no point in denying it.

“Yeah.” Andrew tried to sound as casual as possible.

“You really think so?” Alex said.

Andrew nodded.

Alex’s face split into a grin. "Thanks man. You are too." He clapped a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. The sudden touch sent a wave of warmth through Andrew, and the compliment didn't make him feel any less warm.

Andrew smiled back. “For a second there I thought you were gonna be mad at me or something.”

Alex snorted. “Why the fuck would I be mad at you for telling the truth?”

“Ah, fuck off!”

They laughed together, and Andrew felt the weight lift off of him as they eased into a normal conversation about the show and their plans for the next few days. Alex may have been joking, but he did have a point – he _was_ a good-looking lad, and there was nothing wrong with giving a deserved compliment, right? It was just a laugh between friends. Totally and completely normal.

And then Alex laughed again, his eyes crinkling up and a dimple appearing in his left cheek. The warmth came rushing back into Andrew’s face, spreading to encompass his whole body.

His chest ached. _I love seeing him happy. I want to always see him happy._

The bus pulled into the hotel parking lot, and the words spilled out of Andrew’s mouth. “You know, the bar down the street doesn’t close for an hour. Wanna grab a drink? It’s a nice walk.”

Alex shrugged. “Sure.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they walked down the street, side by side. Their fingertips brushed, and Andrew almost grasped Alex’s hand before deciding against it. This wasn’t one of their usual hurried moments alone, full of desperate touches and physical intensity. Bathed in the cool night air and awash in the sweet scent of the flowers lining the road, they could take their time.

_I’m all right with a slow burn._


	12. Soothing

Spirits were high when they got back on the bus, and Andrew was gushing with pride. “You all _killed_ it tonight! I think that might be the best gig we’ve ever played! Cormac, that solo on Nina Cried Power…”

He launched into a litany of each band member’s finest moments, making each one blush. Alex smiled politely, then used the distraction to squeeze his way past everyone, back to the little room in the back of the bus where he could count on a bit of privacy, at least for a short time.

Once he closed the door behind himself, he exhaled and allowed his shoulders to slump, sitting down on the bed to get undressed. The ache in his shoulders and back intensified when he bent down to push his jeans off, and he grimaced. Get ready for bed, take some pain meds, try to sleep it off.

As he got ready, he could hear everyone laughing outside, trying to return Andrew’s praise and running into his usual resistance to compliments. Alex could practically see the awkward hair-ruffling that accompanied his embarrassed ‘aw, thank you so much’. Eventually, they gave up, and he heard Andrew say, “Good night, everyone. Just…thank you all so much for everything you do.” A chorus of goodnights, and Andrew’s distinct footsteps led to the door.

Alex crawled under the covers and closed his eyes just as Andrew came in, shutting the door behind him.

“Everything okay?” Andrew asked.

“Just tired,” Alex half-lied.

Alex heard Andrew’s hair rustle, the way it did when he nodded. “That’s fair. You go hard up there.” The sound of a zipper, and a soft thud, like clothes hitting the floor, then Alex felt Andrew’s weight sink onto the bed and his arm fall across Alex’s shoulders. “You left before I could tell you how amazing you did.”

“You mean, before you could embarrass me in front of the whole band.”

“Hey, give yourself credit. That backwards jump off of Rory’s platform was fuckin’ _badass_.”

“Thanks, Andy.”

A pause, and then Andrew rubbed Alex’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, a gentle worriedness in his tone.

Alex sighed. Andrew was pretty perceptive when he wasn’t being a clueless dumbass. “Back hurts. Just took some pain meds, no big deal.”

“Good to know it’s nothing serious.” He shifted position, removing his hand from Alex’s shoulder. “D’you…d’you want a back rub? Might help.”

“That’d be really nice, actually.”

“Okay. Why don’t you sit up? I think that’ll be the easiest.”

Alex complied, and Andrew put his hands on Alex’s shoulders.

He should have known from watching Andrew handle his guitar that his hands were strong and deft, but it was still a shock when Andrew began to massage, his large hands working out knots in Alex’s shoulders that Alex didn’t even realize were there. Alex groaned in relief, and Andrew’s hands moved downwards to his upper back, rubbing the tense spot between his shoulder blades before switching to long, firm strokes up and down his back.

“This good?” Andrew asked.

“Mmmm,” Alex replied.

Andrew’s breath was warm against the back of his neck, and Alex could feel the weight of his body in the presses of his hands. His long fingers crept slightly below the waistband of Alex’s boxers to rub the base of his spine before going back up to his shoulders again and working his way down the muscles of Alex’s upper arms. With one last squeeze of the shoulders, Andrew exhaled and moved his hands away.

“That’s all this tired lad has got. Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” Alex stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Thanks, man.” He lay back down, the ache subsiding.

“No problem,” Andrew said. “You do so much for me, you perform so hard, the least I can do is return the favor and help you feel better.” He laid down too, and patted Alex’s shoulder gently. Alex’s mind was hazy and relaxed, and there was something about Andrew’s soft voice that felt warm and comforting.

“You’re sweet, man. G’Night.”

“Good night.” A pause, and then Alex felt Andrew’s lips on his cheek, a soft, quick little kiss. Tender, not heated and lustful like most of their kisses. 

A warm feeling spread through Alex’s chest, and he drifted off to sleep.


	13. Falling Back Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "You Make It Easy" by Red Hearse.

_I feel fine to meet fans after the show, yeah_, he’d told his management. _Second-to-last night of tour, gotta give those fans the chance_. He’d hoped it wasn’t obvious from his face that he couldn’t remember the last time he felt well-rested.

Every morning, he woke up with an ache behind his shoulders and a fog in his head. Downing more cups of coffee than advisable, he’d scrape up the energy to put on a good face, to put on a good show. It wouldn’t be fair if some of his fans got a bad show. It wouldn’t be fair to his hardworking team if their work went to waste. It wouldn’t be fair for him to complain about being tired, not when everyone else was working so hard on his behalf.

It all rested on him.

But after digging deep for energy to sign albums and take selfies, Andrew found his eyelids weighed down, his vision going blurry. He made his way through the bus in a haze and immediately collapsed onto the bed.

“Hey lad…whoa!” Alex said. “You okay man?”

“Tired,” Andrew said into the pillow.

“At least take off your jeans. You need proper sleep before the last show of the tour.”

Andrew sighed. “Okay.” He sleepily pushed off his jeans and flopped back down as Alex left for the bathroom.

What would he do without Alex looking out for him? Alex was the only person he could fall apart around like this. He knew Andrew better than anyone, knew what he went through and what weighed on him. And it wasn’t just that he took care of Andrew – they took care of each other, gave each other what they needed.

Except tonight, Andrew didn’t know if Alex could satisfy him.

This was the last night they’d have alone together on the bus. If Andrew was going to tell him how he felt before tour ended, now was his chance. But he was so _tired_. Tired didn’t even feel like the right word anymore. What he felt was bone-deep, as emotional as it was physical.

And so, paradoxically, sleep evaded him.

_This is your chance. This is your only chance. _

He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing and his beating heart. Alex returned, changing his clothes and tossing them into the corner.

_Now’s your chance now’s your chance…_

Alex climbed into bed, and despite everything, Andrew couldn’t help but be soothed by his presence. He adjusted his position slightly, curling up even closer.

“Andy?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re still awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Thought you said you were tired. Sure you’re okay?”

Could he tell him? Or would he lose his bed companion on this night when he desperately needed the reassurance? “Well, ehm…tour’s ending ‘n all, and I’m gonna miss you. And everyone.” _But mostly you_.

Alex chuckled softly. “Aww, lad, we’ll all miss you too. But think of it this way, you’ll have your bed all to yourself. No more rushing out of hotel rooms or trying to get off on a bumpy bus. You could have someone in your bed that isn’t just a lad who’s too tall for the bunks.”

_But I don’t want someone else in my bed. I want you._

“Yeah, ‘ll be nice,” Andrew lied. Tears prickled at his eyes.

Alex rubbed his shoulder. “Go to sleep.”

Exhaustion took over, and Andrew dropped off with a heavy heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the "back of the tour bus" portion of the fic. I considered making the next section into its own fic or calling it an epilogue or something, but honestly it's just the continuation of this storyline (only, y'know, post-tour). Stay tuned! :)


End file.
